Chapter 10

June 2nd, 2011

Booth's gun was out in an instant, his eyebrows drawing together and his jaw clenching as he took a few automatic steps in front of her. Much to his relief, he saw her step behind him from the corner of his eye, and he let out a small breath of relief, the entirety of his focus turning back to the threat in front of him.

There were seven of them, he realized, doing a quick count as they swept in. Screams erupted from the other side of the lab, as the few other scientists who were present this early in the morning saw the danger coming towards them.

When he turned that way a slight fraction, he saw another two armed guards coming through the doors on the opposite end, cutting off the squints who had tried to flee that way. Orders were being shouted, but they were muffled from the distance and the masks that the invaders were wearing.

He saw the scientists dropping, though, laying flat as the guards moved towards them, guns pointed down at them as they paced through their prone bodies.

They began to collect cell phones.

"Text someone," he hissed to Bones.

There was no way to tell if she heard him or not. He moved himself more fully in front of her, holding his gun up level with his sight.

"Put the gun down!" one of the masked men called to him, coming forward with his arguably larger gun trained on his chest. "Do not be stupid!"

Booth didn't falter. "FBI!" he shouted.

The man turned towards one of his companions, giving a short bark of laughter.

A gasp from the platform drew his attention, and apparently Brennan's as well, because he heard her sharp intake of breath behind him, and she took two steps out from behind him. He reached a hand out warningly, and she stopped short. But he knew that her instincts were telling her to help.

The familiar buzz of the security system granting access rang through the air, now a chilling sound instead of an expectable, friendly one.

Two of the men mounted the steps, guns leading the way, and started towards Cam, Wendell, Sweets, Angela, and the other squints who were unlucky enough to be present.

"Toss your phones," one of them said, his voice sharp. "And lie down. Facedown. Hands behind your back."

Brennan's hand landed on his back, making him jump slightly. He could feel her trembling.

"Gun. Down." The same man in front of Booth was stressing, tipping his head and nodding towards the platform. The or else in that sentence hung silently between them. Gritting his teeth, Booth lifted the gun and turned it sideways as he raised his hands above his head. Carefully, watching the other men for any changes in their aggression, he reached up to reapply the safety before the set the gun on the ground. "Kick it," the man told him icily.

His eyes hard with fury and his muscles tense with fear as he was all-to-aware of Brennan behind him, he kicked the gun away, watching it skitter across the hard floor to where one of the other gunman bent down to pick it up and tuck it in the back of his pants.

A few of them had ski masks with mouth openings, and he could see them now smiling. Everything was going according to plan, and Booth very much wanted to injure them severely for it. They were invading Bones' kingdom. This was her place, not theirs. And it was his, too, in many ways.

He felt helpless now, without his gun, and he took a step back so he could feel Brennan's warmth behind him and know that she was shielded.

They weren't going to let that last.

"Both of your cell phones. Toss them here."

He pulled his out, and felt Brennan bending down to slide hers across before he followed suit. Both the phones were tossed into a bag. They clacked against the other phones that had been collected, and the bag was passed to the man on the stairs, who moved up to gather the phones on the floor of the platform, which had been removed from the other squints.

Now, one of the men moved forward at the order of the one who had been speaking with Booth. Clearly, he was the man in charge of the situation. This other man advanced, and Booth backed up a pace, pushing Brennan with him.

The armed man chuckled, and the sound sent chills through Booth's veins. His hands found one of Bones' and squeezed lightly. She responded in like, refusing to release her hold on him until they were physically forced apart with the barrel of the gun.

Booth had to resist the urge not to carry out the move running through his head. He knew how to disarm. He was a pro at it.

But doing it now... was not going to help them. They were outnumbered, and in grave danger.

On top of that, security had obviously been damaged in some way, because no alarms had gone off, and these men had possessed a security card that allowed them onto the platform. He wondered if the security officers were even still alive, but then pushed the thought away. They had a lot more things to worry about, and there was little he could do to help them if they were dead by now.

His handcuffs jingled as they were taken from the back of his belt. For a split second, fear coursed through him as he thought they were going to cuff Bones, but instead the gunman latched one of the cuffs around his right wrist and then snapped the other around the railing of the platform, trapping him down below.

And then he almost wished that they had indeed used the cuffs on her, if it would mean her being stuck here instead of him. Because the other man, the leader, was shoving her up against the side of the platform, a few feet away from him but enough to be out of his reach. As the other man frisked him and took away his second and third guns, the leader took his time checking Brennan over.

She closed her eyes, her chin jutting out defiantly as she bit her tongue and forced herself not to fight back. He could practically read her fears as they mirrored his.

But when the leader was done running his hands up and down her body with unnecessary and infuriating thoroughness, he stepped away. With a nod to the other man, he headed towards the platform.

It was the second man who yanked her arms behind her and zip-tied them far more tightly than was needed. An involuntary sound escaped her throat, and he laughed.

On the platform, the others had been gathered together, even those who attempted to flee to begin with. They were sitting with their backs against the opposite railing, hands bound with zip-ties as well.

It had only been a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity had passed.

Bones was seized by her upper arm and forcibly dragged past him towards the stairs. She sent him one wide-eyed look, and then she was gone up the stairs, and she was held with her back to him, the only one standing with the gunmen. He didn't like the implication—the focus they were putting on her. Like they knew who she was, and her importance in this place.

It shouldn't have surprised him, though, given how well they had already pulled this off. If they knew how to get past security so easily, it should be expected that they'd done their homework on Brennan while they were at it.

Still, he could only watch in fear as the rest of this event began to unfold. It was clear they were only getting started—this was the first part of the plan. Now... they were going to go for whatever it was that had motivated them to invade the lab to begin with. They had to have a purpose.

"I'm going to make this very simple," the leader said, standing on Brennan's other side and toying with his gun before pressing it to her temple. He saw her tense, but couldn't see the expression on her face from his angle. He could see Angela's, though, and it was white with terror. "I want the evidence pertaining to the Nathan Kaminski investigation. All of it."

No one spoke, either to argue or to agree. They all just... stared at him. Waiting for more. Waiting for some sort of instruction. No one dared to move.

"You," he said at last, his gaze drifting over the members of the team and landing on Cam, "Get up."

Two of the armed men pulled her to her feet, and one sliced the ties on her hands, freeing her. As they dumped out a plastic container full of evidence on another case and set it on the table for her to fill, Booth took stock of the entirety of their situation.

Nine men in total had entered the lab area, although there could easily be a few more outside. All of their positions had shifted, and there was one man standing at each end of the lab, watching the doors. Another paced along the wall on Booth's side of the platform, occasionally coming closer to walk by with his gun trained on the agent's back. The other six paced the platform or stood stiff with their guns trained on the captives.

Cam began to gather things from the tables, moving to Hodgins' station and gathering up the secured samples with shaking hands.

"If you should fail to give us anything, I will blow her head off," the man added, nudging Brennan's temple again with the barrel of the gun.

Cam nodded rapidly, her eyes flicking up to meet Brennan's for just a fraction of a second before she returned to her task.

It was killing all of them, giving everything up—ruining their chances at getting justice for the victim. But they didn't have much of a choice, and Booth would gladly sacrifice a case to keep Brennan safe.

In his head, he was keeping stock of the evidence they might be able to gain from this raid. Obviously these thugs were involved in Kaminski's death. And in all likelihood, they were also involved with the large-scale drug operation that the team had begun to look into. This was them cleaning up, or at least trying to. A lot of people didn't realize just how smart the people who ran drug operations were. They were thorough, like this. They had more guns than they knew what to do with, and they weren't afraid to do whatever it took to protect their goods. Money was king, and drugs were money in their world.

It was either do this or lose their livelihoods.

Why they hadn't taken care of the evidence before, though, and disposed of the body on the same night as they killed him, was the one thing that confused him. Maybe they had sent someone inexperienced, who hadn't carried out the plan properly? Maybe they had been interrupted?

There was no way of knowing at this point.

Brennan grimaced as Cam began to gather up the bones from the examination table. Booth saw movement, and saw as the man in charge pulled a pocketknife out, snapping it open behind Brennan's back. He opened his mouth, ready to shout a warning for her, but then the knife sliced up and cut through her bonds, and she gasped and lurched forward.

"Help her," he commanded briskly, giving her a push. Shaking, Brennan moved and joined Cam at the table, picking up each bone in turn and placing it in the box. "Quickly," he insisted, having followed her to keep the gun close by her head.

Now he could see her face, and how pale it was. Her long, thin fingers seemed to blur as they shook. This was the sort of thing she was prepared for. The sort of thing where he expected her to be resilient and defiant. It had always been one of his greatest concerns—her getting herself killed by saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. But now... now she was quiet and compliant. She was doing as she was told, and she was visibly terrified.

It shook him to his core, to see her like this. He knew why, of course. The pregnancy changed everything—when it was just herself, she could be brave and strong and ready to do whatever it took. In this situation, she wasn't alone. She wasn't prepared for this sort of thing, and that was scaring her, too.

She was going to make a great mother.

When they were finished, Cam was shoved back down with the others. Bones still stood next to the box of evidence.

"Pick it up," the leader instructed, at the same time signaling to his men.

This was where it was going to get complicated, and Booth felt all the tension of the past few minutes gathering together into this one moment.

Please just leave. Take the evidence. Don't hurt her...

~BxBxBxBxBxB~

"Let's go," he said gruffly, his face close to her ear and the gun hovering only inches from the back of her skull. She closed her eyes, breathing in sharply through her nose before complying.

Stay calm. Stay calm, she chanted to herself internally.

They moved down the stairs, and with every step that she took away from her team, from Booth, she felt her heart rate picking up.

She could feel their stares on her back, but she didn't dare turn around to meet them.

They'll take the box at the door and leave you behind, she tried to reassure herself. But it did little for her, especially as they got closer to the door and there was no indication that it was any part of the plan.

Hesitating, fight or flight starting to kick into effect, she slowed her pace as they reached the doors. The leader turned to her, as if surprised by this reaction. She pulled to a complete stop as the gunmen in front of them headed through the sliding glass and out towards the main doors.

"Move," the leader said firmly. Two of the other gunmen pressed close behind her, and she swallowed.

"Take the evidence," she said. The first thing any of them had said to the captors, outside of Booth's shout to inform them he was FBI.

"Oh, I intend to," he said quietly. "And if you intend to live... it would be in your best interest to cooperate to the fullest. Now... move."

"No," she said, her voice firm even though she had been so sure it would tremble. "We... we aren't going to follow you. Just... take the box."

He smiled, tipping his head to the side as if she were a curiosity to him.

"You're as bold as I had expected, you know, Dr. Brennan. If you prefer us to kill you here, in front of your friends, instead of in the parking lot... then have it your way."

She shook slightly, her heartbeat roaring in her ears.

"Why?" she demanded, her voice low. She wondered if the others could hear this conversation, or if they were in the dark, wondering.

"Because, sweetheart—" the way he said the word sent a chill through her "—this case isn't any of your business. And it seems to me that you are the reason this lab is so successful. That, and it's a powerful message. A warning to your friends, that they will meet similar fates if they don't cooperate."

She clenched her teeth, resisting the urge to argue. Telling him her team would never give up would only suggest to him that it would be a good idea to kill them all. And that wasn't something she planned to let happen.

The leader didn't seem interested in speaking with her anymore. He nodded to the two men behind her, and one took the box while the other zip-tied her hands together once more. She swallowed harshly, blinking to force away the liquid building up in her eyes.

They planned to kill her, and there really wasn't much she could do about it.

The one with the evidence went ahead, and the leader signaled to the one, larger man left behind before following. He pulled out his weapon and turned to her, turning her around and pressing her against the wall face first.

Her breaths grew shallow, and her gaze blurred even as she tried to seek out Booth's face one last time.

"No!" she heard him roar, at the same time as Angela screamed, "Bren!"

The safety clicked on the weapon pressed to the back of her skull.

"Please," she found herself whispering, "Please, please, don't kill me. Don't kill me. I'm pregnant... I'm pregnant..." her words wound into each other, until she was pleading in desperation, barely aware of the words.

She could not die. That was the only thing that mattered in that moment. All of her pride and her dignity washed away. This wasn't about being brave, this wasn't about holding her head high and accepting her fate. She would beg if that was what it took.

Because she wanted to live. She wanted to live, and she needed to live. Because she needed her child to survive. Needed with a passion unlike anything she'd ever felt before.

The gun did not go off—her captor seemed to be hesitating.

And then the pressure of the barrel on her skull went away, and she felt him step back. He was gone out the doors, and she trembled against the wall for a long moment before she slid down it, her legs crumpling out from underneath her.

Sirens played in the distance.

Too late.

But she was alive. She was alive.

Through her haze, she heard Booth shouting, "Bones! Bones!" He was fighting the cuffs to no avail, and she raised her head and shook her tangled hair out of her face, blinking until she found him.

"I'm okay!" she called, a helpless sort of relief bubbling inside of her, and an incredulous smile forming across her face. Booth did not match her expression with a smile of his own. His face was white and his eyes wide.

He was okay, too, she could see, and that only relieved her further.

Thank goodness... they were all okay. They'd all survived.

And it had been less than ten minutes since Booth has stepped through the doors, and she had been prepared to talk to him.

She needed to tell him now, more than ever. No more holding back, not when things could change so quickly. She had almost died, only a moment ago. Without telling him the truth. Without telling him she loved him.

The sirens were louder now, and suddenly gunshots sounded. Outside the building, but they still made her jump with alarm.

She forced herself into action, pushing her back against the wall for leverage and clambering back to her feet. Her legs were shaky, but she shook her head to clear it and then moved with purpose, heading straight to Booth.

When she got close, she stumbled forward, half falling into his chest as he wrapped his free arm around her, gasping a ragged breath into her hair.

"Bones..." he whispered, clutching her to him. Her shoulders shook, but she fought back the tears that were threatening her. There wasn't time for that. Not now.

"We need a knife, or something sharp," she said, glancing up to the others on the platform, who were all staring at her.

"I've got a letter opener in my office," Cam said, attempting to push herself back to a position that would allow her to get to her feet. But Brennan was already heading there, turning herself so she could pull the door open from behind her back.

Digging through the desk was the biggest issue, but it was luckily right on top, and she hesitated before bringing it with her instead of just using it for herself right then.

Booth had the ties cut with ease in a moment, but there was little she could do for him. They had taken the key with them, and he didn't have the spare on him. Before she went up to the platform to free the others, though, she hesitated.

He seemed to understand, because he held his arm out, and she gladly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her face into the warm skin over his heart and hearing it's reassuring thrum.

Neither of them said anything, and then she was stepping away again and mounting the stairs.

It felt good to be free, to not have a gun aimed at her head, to not be restricted by bindings. But at the same time... she still felt shaky. A numbness was spreading through her, and she knew it was probably some sort of residue from the shock. Hopefully it would fade.

She went to Angela first, the closest person to her, and cut her loose with ease, moving on to Wendell, Sweets, and Cam, at which point her boss gently removed the letter opener from her grasp and took on the task of freeing the others.

Brennan fell into the nearest chair, and Angela squeezed her shoulder.

No one spoke much beyond the occasional murmur.

When the doors opened, everyone turned towards them with terror as the first instinct.

But it was the FBI, with Charlie at the front and Agent Shaw behind with other agents whom she did not recognize. After that, everything seemed to blur together.

Booth was freed, medical attention arrived to tend to the injured security guard from the entrance by the parking garage, and the security personnel in the office who had allowed the criminals' access were questioned.

Brennan found out, through listening more than enquiring on her own, that their captors had threatened the families of the security men, giving them details about their children's schools and their wives jobs, telling them they had men positioned at their houses. Showed them surveillance pictures and gained their compliance in return for reassurance that their loved ones wouldn't be harmed.

When Hodgins came through the doors, his eyes wide and his fear palpable, Angela was still on the platform, arms wrapped around herself and nodding to the questions that Shaw was asking. She had already agreed to sketch as best she could, although she wasn't sure how much she was going to get seeing as they had all worn masks. When she saw Hodgins coming towards her, though, she seemed to forget all about the investigation, running down the stairs—the security had now been fully disabled for the purposes of easy access while the FBI presence was so high—and into his arms.

Brennan watched from a distance, smiling softly to herself and waiting until they'd had a moment to talk before she moved forward.

"You got my message," she said, stopping beside the couple.

Hodgins ran a hand through his curly hair, nodding emphatically. "Yeah... yeah, I got it. About five minutes after you sent it, unfortunately, but... I hope it did some good."

"It did," she assured, turning to look around the lab at all the people, both FBI and Jeffersonian employees. "We're all free, and we're all safe..."

"And I heard they got a few of the guys?" Angela added, turning to Hodgins for confirmation. He was the only one of them who had been outside of the lab in the aftermath.

He nodded. "Yeah, they were covering up a body when they let me through, and they had another guy in cuffs."

"Good. Maybe we can figure out everything we need to know from just him," Angela was saying. But Brennan's mind had gone elsewhere.

They would have killed her. Had planned to take her out with them and leave her, shot in the head, on the ground in the parking garage. It was reminiscent of so many other past experiences—the threats that had been uttered at her in El Salvador, the attack she had faced from the Gravedigger in that very same garage—and she couldn't shake the image in her head. Because, had she failed to dissuade that gunman, hers would have been one of the bodies they found in that parking garage. One of the bodies they were covering up as Hodgins came through.

She shivered at the thought, her hand reaching across herself almost subconsciously to rest on her abdomen.

"Sweetie?" Angela said softly, and she glanced up to find both of her friends looking at her with unabashed concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she said at once. "Just... a little shaken."

"Maybe you should have... someone take a look at you," Hodgins suggested tentatively.

She grimaced, but found herself starting to agree. She wanted to ensure the baby was fine, even though she had come to no physical harm herself and it was unlikely her unborn child had been upset in the least by the ordeal they'd just gone through.

Hesitating for a moment, she finally nodded.

"After," she said, though, firmly, and both he and Angela nodded in agreement.

There were other things that needed to be done first.

Gradually, the lab cleared. Crime scene tape lined the platform, and a few FBI techs were still collecting samples—even though she had explained multiple times that they had all worn gloves and the only prints would be from her and her team—but the old feeling did not return. The place was not the same. It had been invaded. Its borders had been crossed, its threshold betrayed.

No, things were not the same.

Booth came towards her, as she was stepping away from confirming her official statement with Agent Shaw, and she stopped and turned to close the distance between them, smiling cautiously and trying to read him.

They hadn't gotten much time to talk, or to be alone. Everything had been pure chaos, and he'd been busy directing the FBI and giving his statement to the other agents while she'd been trying to help maintain what little evidence might be present.

"Hey," he said softly, stopping directly in front of her. His smile was tight, but his eyes danced with a warmth when they met hers, and she was glad for it.

"Hey," she echoed, biting her lip nervously.

He paused, opening his mouth but not saying anything, and then he finally glanced towards her office and she took the initiative, touching his arm and then leading the way. He followed gratefully.

When the door shut behind them, it was a welcome relief. Solitude.

She pulled the blinds, and turned at last to find him standing beside her couch. He had chosen not to sit, and she didn't blame him. She felt an odd sort of exhaustion after the raid, but a restlessness had come with it, that made sitting still almost impossible. She wanted to keep occupied; she wanted to be doing things.

Neither of them said anything, for a long while.

"They were going to kill you," he said at last, in a strangled voice. His eyes were locked on her face, refusing to let go. She understood the urge—she was doing the same thing to him, trying not to imagine how today could have ended differently. If anything had happened, to either of them...

She chewed on her lip for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes," she whispered. He had not asked a question, but it had felt like one, nonetheless.

He nodded slightly, his face hard.

"I couldn't have survived that, Bones," he whispered finally. "I wouldn't have... been able to. Not... not losing you."

"The baby," she murmured, and for the first time, she felt kindred with Booth's resolve. She was second to their child. That was how it was supposed to be. And she saw that now. It didn't matter if he didn't feel the same way about her. She loved him, he loved the baby.

And they were all alive.

Nothing else mattered.

A crease formed in his brow, and he stepped closer. But he didn't say whatever it was that was on his mind. He just sort of... watched her. Waiting for her to make the next move.

"This morning, I came here... hoping to see you. To talk to you," she admitted. "And to tell you... that I'm sorry about the other night." He opened his mouth to say something, but she overrode him, continuing, "It was wrong of me to get so angry with you, and to not explain myself. And I shouldn't have run out like that."

Now he waited again, his mouth shutting.

He needed the explanation that she had failed to give before, and she felt her heart picking up its pace again. She could do this; she could tell him the truth.

"Booth..." she shook her head, and then, reminiscent of the night she told him she was pregnant, a small laugh escaped her lips. She couldn't believe she was doing this. It was hard enough, telling Angela. It had been nearly impossible convincing herself it was true. To tell him, now... was terrifying her. "I'm in love with you," she whispered, shaking her head, the corners of her vision starting to twinkle. She blinked the moisture away. "I have been for... for I don't know how long. And I just... I can't keep it to myself anymore. I don't... I don't want you to be in this, not knowing the truth, and you didn't get a say, with the pregnancy... but I don't want you to give up everything for me. I don't want this to be about—about the wrong things. And I know that... you'll make a great father. I don't know how to be a parent, but I'm going to try, and I just—"

She was rambling, and she knew it. But she couldn't seem to make herself stop, until he moved forward. It was his step that cut her off, and she stopped short, biting her lip and staring up at him, feeling horribly vulnerable and helpless. Much like the night she'd told him she was pregnant, she had no clue how he was going to react.

But his eyes... they were smiling before the emotion even reached the rest of his face. He didn't sweep her into his arms, though, or kiss her. She ran her tongue over her lips, trembling slightly with the uncertainty.

He hesitated, and then reached out to place his hands gently on the shoulders, meeting her gaze seriously.

"You crazy, beautiful woman," he whispered, shaking his head. Her eyes widened with confusion, and then he laughed. It was a beautiful, warm sound. It engulfed her like the comfort of his arms, and she found a smile growing on her face even though she didn't know why.

She was still very, very confused.

"I love you," he said, answering the unspoken question. The three words were incredulous with disbelief, but she realized that it wasn't because he didn't believe them himself... but because of something else entirely. Because he hadn't thought she would doubt it.

Angela was right, was the last thought she had before he pressed his lips against hers, and then all thought disappeared entirely as she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, returning the kiss with a passion.

It wasn't like before, at all. This was warm, and loving, and tender. It was like she had always imagined things would be, in the long run. It was like coming home, to a place she hadn't even known she'd been missing.

Now, she never wanted to leave.

Her lips parted, and they explored each other eagerly, her tongue tracing along his lips and tangling with his as they clung to one another. He tasted off coffee and peppermint and something that was undeniably Booth. She remembered it from before, but it was so much better now. So much more... hers.

They finally parted for air, both of them gasping, and they met each other's eyes, freezing for a long second before they both burst into uncontrollable laughter. She couldn't have explained it if anyone had asked, but something about it was just... right. It was them, through and through.

He pressed his forehead against hers, chuckling warmly.

"God, we should have done this years ago," he murmured.

She nodded in immediate agreement. "I should never have turned you down," she whispered.

But he shook off the apology, smiling reassuringly. "We both... we both needed to figure some things out. And I'm not proud of how I handled things, either. So I think we're even."

That drew another laugh from her. Always with the balance sheet...

"We're going to be a family," he murmured, and when she smiled back, a tint of fear in her eyes, he kissed her again, quickly and gently before he pulled back to meet her eyes. "You and me are going to figure all of this out, I promise, Bones. We're going to do it together. All of it, from now on."

She answered with another kiss, drawing this one out longer until he carefully pulled back. When she met his eyes with a frown of disappointment, he laughed.

"We've got... all the time in the world, Bones. But... our team is out there. And—"

"We should be with them," she cut in, already nodding her agreement. "You're right."

They hesitated at the door, and then he opened it and ushered her out before him. As it shut behind them, he glanced down at her hand, and she reached over to twine her fingers through his.

They didn't walk like that, though. She just squeezed his hand, and he returned the motion. And then they reverted to the way things used to be with them, the way they had always been, which was how they always should be, she realized. He placed his hand gently on the small of her back, and she turned to him, a smile on her lips, before they headed towards the lounge, where the others were gathering.

A/N: Alright. So, this chapter makes me nervous. Feedback on it would be amazing, because I need to know how well I did with it. It was a challenge to write it, and I actually re-wrote a large chunk of it before I was happy with it. Share your thoughts, I'm begging you. Every review means a lot, and I appreciate the critical ones, too, because it means you care enough to try and help me do better with these stories. And I take it all to heart, trust me.